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917.731

BOOK

OF TH&

KORTH S MORE

HIGHWAYS WBWAYS

PAST AND PRESENT

917.731
W5&D

BOOK of the NORTH SHORE

HOMES, GARDENS, LANDSCAPES

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

PAST AND PRESENT

By MARIAN A. WHITE
Author and Lecturer

Entrance and Bronze Door, Residence of Mr. S. H. Gunder

CHICAGO

J. HARRISON WHITE
1910

J. Harrison White

Chicago

Engraved and Printed
by The Franklin Company of Chicago

TO THE
PATRONS AND SUBSCRIBERS

WHO HAVE MADE
ITS PRODUCTION POSSIBLE

THIS BOOK

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY
THE PUBLISHER

Photo by Be

RESIDENCE OF W. F. GROSVENOR, M.D.
4829 Kenmore Ave., Argyle Park

PLATE No. 20

Photo by Jackso:

RESIDENCE OF MR. FRED A. ANDERSON
5022 Kenmore Ave., Argyle Park

PLATE No. 21

Photo by Barker

RESIDENCE OF MR. F. B. MONTGOMERY
6143 Kenmore Ave., North Edgewater

— „

PLATE No. 22

Photo by Bemm

RESIDENCE OF MR. GEO. N. MIDDENDORF
6326 Kenmore Ave., North Edgewater

PLATE No. 23

Photo by Bemni

PLATE No. 28

RESIDENCE OF DR. A. COSMAS GARVY
6000 Sheridan Road, Edgewater

Photo by Bemm

PLATE No. 29

RESIDENCE OF CAPT. D. SULLIVAN
5746 Sheridan Road, Edgewater

Photo by Barker

RESIDENCE OF MR. F. W. GETTY
6821 Sheridan Road, Rogers Park

PLATE No. 30

Photo by Barke

PLATE No. 31

RESIDENCE OF MR. ALFRED DECKER
6958 Sheridan Road, Rogers Park

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PLATE No. 49

RESIDENCE OF MR. CALLISTUS S. ENNIS
1437 Pratt Ave., Rogers Park

UNIVERSITY Of
ILLINOIS LIBRARY

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RESIDENCE OF MR. A. P. BRINK
1427 Bryan Ave., Birchwood

PLATE No. 50

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PLATE No. 51

RESIDENCE OF MR. HARRY E. ALEXANDER
1419 Bryan Ave., Birchwood

Photo by Bern

PLATE No. 52

BUNGALOW OF MR. GEORGE A. STONE
1420 Bryan Ave., Birchwood

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PLATE No. 53

RESIDENCE OF MR. JAMES J. O'MEARA
1232 Pratt Ave., Rogers Park

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Landscape Architect, A. Setterberg

GARDEN OF MR. H. L. HOLLISTER'S RESIDENCE
1224 Bryan Ave., Birchwood

PLATE No. 54

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S!?l**'~

Photo by Barker

PLATE No. 61

RESIDENCE OF MR. STEPHEN L. WALKER
1331 Chase Ave., Birchwood

Photo by Barker

PLATE No. 62

RESIDENCE OF MR. L. P. HAMMOND
1701 Chase Ave., Birchwood

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RESIDENCE OF MR. JOHN C. THORN
7409 Sheridan Road, Birchwood

PLATE No. 63

Photo by Barker PLATE No. 64

RESIDENCE OF MR. W. JAEKEL
6957 Sheridan Road, Rogers Park .,

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VIEW FROM MR. E. D. MOENG'S PORCH
Foot of Columbia Avenue and the Beach, Rogers Park

PLATE No. 71

VIEWS IN EVANSTON. ILL.

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RESIDENCE OF MR. WALTER M. POND
1117 Forest Ave., Evanston, 111.

PLATE No. 74

Photo by Fowler

RESIDENCE OF MR. F. H. BRUNELL
2681 Sheridan Road, Evanston, 111.

Photo by Fowler

RESIDENCE OF DR. RUFUS B. STOLP
Kenilworth. 111.

PLATE No. 79

Photo by Fowle

RESIDENCE OF MR. LOUIS T. WILSON
Kenilworth. 111.

PLATE No. 80

Photo by Fowler

RESIDENCE OF MR. W. L. SERRELL
Kenilworth, 111.

PLATE No. 81

PLATE No. 82

A PIONEER RESIDENCE

Photo by Fuermann

PLATE No.

LOGGIA OF RESIDENCE OF MR. FREDERICK MORGAN STEELE
Highland Park, 111.

Photo by Bemm PLATE No. 90

"CONTENT," RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. BENJ. A. FESSENDEN
Circle Ave., Highland Park, 111.

Photo by Bemm PLATE No. 91

"OAKLANDS," HOMESTEAD OF THE PUBLISHER (1888-1893)

(Built in 1876)

Ravinia, 111.

Bronze Tablet on Walljof Entrance to Mr. E. D. Moene's Residence, Rogers Park

Highways and Byways
Past and Present

iMERICA holds the future." So said Matthew Arnold about the time when
Chicago, ravaged by flame, contemplated the ruin of that which had been
evolved from the hunting grounds and tepees of the Red Man, and of which
she had been justly proud. A momentary pang of anguish, a throb of despair,
and the afflicted city, in which the true pioneer enterprise had been a tower
of strength from its earliest inception, asserted itself with redoubled might, and
over a new trail in its cinereous highways the waters of Lake Michigan, above
which still hung a pall of suffocating smoke, caught the resolve"! Will!" while
the winds eagerly took up the refrain, and joyously bore the bewitching lay to
a sympathizing yet wonder-stricken world.

The ethical student and writer, quoted at the beginning of the preceding para-
graph, probably had no thought of the then unfortunate city in the far-away, fair
State of Illinois, yet the prophetic words were of great significance, for through the
portal of Chicago, even at that time, a larger America was in process of evolution,
while today it is developing resources that will ultimately enrich and sustain one
of the largest populations the world has known. In order to more intelligently
comprehend the present, it will be well to bear in mind the settlement of com-
munities and the making of cities in America, as gleaned from historical data, at
a time when the thought of such a city as the present Chicago was as remote as
the fabulous castle in the air.

In 1607, the English were at Jamestown, Virginia; the French in Quebec, in
1612; while the Dutch had found their way to Manhattan Island, in 1614, and, rear-
ing a few fisher huts for the purpose of shelter, evolved the present site of New York
City. In 1620, the Puritans were at Plymouth; and fourteen years later, while
Massachusetts is founding a representative government, making treaties with the
Indians and establishing friendly relations with individual colonies, a frail birch-
bark canoe is gliding through the neck of water, connecting Lake Huron with Lake
Michigan; and the lovely white cliffs of Mackinac, crested with sweet-scented pine,
gave silent welcome to the first pale face. They had long — no one knows how long —
been familiar with copper-colored visages, similar to those of the seven lithesome
paddlers, whose regular, skillful toying stroke bore the canoe, in which sat Jean

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

Nicolet, alert and observant from sixteen years of frontier life, into the newly
discovered Lac des Ilinese — now Lake Michigan. This body of sparkling water
seemed, to the explorer, to reach into illimitable distance, while the Indians, familiar,
perhaps, with its varying moods, kept the canoe near the shore line, reaching Puan
(Green) Bay and the Fox River in safety. Our particular story has nothing more
to do with Jean Nicolet's further explorations, except that on his return to civiliza-
tion he created a desire in the minds of the adventurous spirits of New France to
explore for the sake of wealth and acquisition of territory; while the Jesuits, for this
religious Order had come from France to Canada, in 1625, were more zealous than
ever in their efforts to promote Christianity among the aborigines.

So ever following in the wake of explorer, and not infrequently, taking the
initiative of exploration upon himself, came the Jesuit priest, and he who has gone
down in the annals of his church as the "Martyr Jogues," was the first to carry the
message of the Cross to the Sault Indians. Beyond the Sault, and into that region
now designated the "Northwest," and to which Chicago has been, to a large extent,
and is still, a portal, nothing was known until the explorations of the fearless and
indefatigable Radison and Groseillier in 1659-60. And in 1674, Marquette is at
the mouth of the Portage (Chicago) River!

Geologists assure us that far back in the ages, of which we have no record,
the western shore of Lake Michigan was not always confined within its present
boundary. The water was some miles inland, and that the Lake began to trend
westward, at what is now known as Winnetka, lapping the shore line of the long,
southwestern slope which starts in the suburb of Wilmette. As the Lake receded
from this ancient shore line it left, as an authority asserts, "one slender two- toed
footprint, a rivulet with two branches. The north branch, coming in at the Skokie,
preserved a southward course, nearly parallel with the deserted shore line; while
a south branch, with various creeping affluents, started northward from the aban-
doned divide, and met the other half way; after which the two made eastward to
find the parent body, the Lake."

Archaeologists also affirm the existence of another race before the coming of
the Red Man, which lived in a higher state of civilization than the latter. The
same authorities assume that this higher civilization was either driven out or exter-
minated by the Indians. The earth, in the locality in question, has yielded up suffi-
cient evidence that there existed such a people, and, from these antiquities, the
dwellers upon the western shore of Lake Michigan are becoming cognizant of the
fact, that tradition and legendary lore, those features of antiquity upon which older
nations are wont to pride themselves, and which is supposed to be the necessary
inspiration toward patriotism and an art National, is being unearthed and presented
in due form for historical and poetical purposes.

The landmarks of the Indian are more easily traced, although much of historic
import, that should have been preserved, is scattered, and, in many instances, utterly
destroyed. The coming of the white man was as a swift, overwhelming tide, to
which the Red Man had to yield. Yet has he an important significance — even if
his origin still continue to be a matter of ethnological tangle — in American history,
for it cannot be complete without him. The first explorers and the early religious
teachers found him, not what he is today — a mere apology for the noble Red, who
roamed the country while in its primitive, wilderness beauty. Longfellow's
"Hiawatha" is not entirely fiction in the guise of imaginative embellishment by
a poet; neither is the noble "Chactas" of Chateaubriand's beautiful imagery alto-
gether a fanciful personality! For if the mind be free from prejudice, it may glean
from the writings of the early students of Indian character, that which cannot help
but resolve itself into a more appreciative understanding of the merits of a people
that were compelled to submit, after more than two centuries of hostilities, in which
loss of life, and destruction of property, played a conspicuous part. Foot by foot,
almost inch by inch, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, the Red Man fought desper-
ately against the white invader, and finally yielded in the desert country, "for the
sake" — to use the words of the noble Chief Joseph — "of our women and children."
It was the inevitable outcome of a contest waged in the interests of civilization,
but it was, nevertheless, a cruel one; and a sigh of relief, not unmixed with pity for
their fate, went through the land, when it was learned that the Indian war was at
an end, and the survivors among the Reds were to be corralled into Reservations,
and their children educated.

8883

When the French explorers, Jesuit priests, Re'collet friars, trappers, hunters
and voyageurs first pushed their way through the country of prairie and timber-
land, of which Chicago and its North Shore is a small but important section, there

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

were representatives of three great Indian families occupying the Northwest — the
Sioux, the Algonquin, and the Iroquois families. Of these, the Algonquins fur-
nished to Illinois the following tribes: the Illini, Kickapoo, Ottawas, Pottawattomi,
and Sac and Fox. All these tribes believed in a Great Spirit, as well as in a coming
deliverer, the latter to be heralded by signs and wonders. Their feasts and dances,
ceremonies and orgies, have now become incorporated in the military annals of
our frontier life, since most of these celebrations led to some breach of the law,
established under military direction to keep peace between the natives and the
early settlers.

The Indian mind is given to associate everything in Nature with the presence
of the Great Spirit. Mountains, waterfalls, lakes and rivers, particularly if they
be of undue magnitude and power, were sacred to the same Great Spirit, whom they
generally designated "Manitou." The clouds, thunder, lightning, rain and wind
were thought to be expressions of minor spirits under the direction of the Great
Spirit. Among the different tribes are any number of legends, handed down by
word of mouth for generations. Most of the Indian tribes retain a legend of a
mystical bird, said to come only in the summer evenings, at the time of full moon,
to sing, in the nearest grove to their wigwams, lays of the spirit land in which are
conveyed tidings from the loved dead. As the history of Chicago and the North
Shore seems to be more closely affiliated with the Pottawattomies, or "canoe-men" —
so designated by the Illini and the Miamis, whom they had driven from the vicinity
of Chicago, before the dawn of the eighteenth century — it may not be out of place
to note the legend connected with the origin of this particular tribe, as well as their
mode of addressing the Great Spirit, at their Thanksgiving feast.

The Pottawattomies believed in two spirits, symbolizing good and evil. The
first, addressed as Kitchemanito, meaning Great Spirit, and the second, as Matche-
manito, or the Evil Spirit. Kitchemanito, according to this legend, first created
the world, filling it with a class of beings, who only bore the appearance of men,
but who were, practically, perverse, ungrateful, wicked dogs, who never raised their
eyes from the earth to thank the Great Spirit for anything. For this base conduct
they were plunged, with the world itself, into a great lake, and all were drowned.

Then Kitchemanito withdrew the earth from the water, and made a man — a
man good to look upon and youthful. But he became lonesome, and, at last so sad,
that Kitchemanito exhibited his pity, by sending to him a sister to cheer him. After
awhile, the young man had a dream, which he revealed to his sister: "Five young
men," said he, "will come to your wigwam door, tonight, to visit you. The Great
Spirit forbids you to answer, or even to look up and smile at either of the first four.
But, when the fifth comes, you may speak and laugh, to prove that you are pleased."

The sister followed the instructions given, and when Usama (tobacco), who
was the first to call, came to her lodge, she repulsed him, and he fell dead. The
second was Wapako (pumpkin); the third, Eshkossimin (melon), and the fourth,
Kokees (the bean); but they each met the same fate as Usama. When Damin, or
Mondamin, which signifies maize, presented himself, she drew aside the skin of
tapestry guarding the entrance to her wigwam, laughed merrily, and extended to
him a friendly greeting. They were married, and from this union originated the
Indian. Damin, in the meanwhile, had disposed of the bodies of his rivals by putting
them under the earth. From their graves, in due course, sprang tobacco, melons
of all kinds, including the squashes, and beans. Thus Kitchemanito gave to the
race which he had created, that which should provide a variety of vegetable food
with the meat they cooked in their akecks, or kettles, as well as providing sufficient
for offerings to himself in their feasts and ceremonies.

The Pottawattomies' thanksgiving contains a charm of poetry and sentiment
that is delightfully interesting, inasmuch as it is similar in its thought to many of
the Psalms, and, in construction, resembles the canticles in use in both the Roman
Catholic and Episcopal churches. We have to picture the Pottawattomies in their
primitive environment — the lovely prairie-lands stretching as far as the eye can
reach, and the shadowy forest growth untouched by woodman's axe; the rivers and
streams gleaming like threads of silver, and the Lake, always varying in mood and
color, reaching far, far away, bounded as it seemed by no distant shore line — before
we can intelligently enter into the depths of emotion of which he was capable, in
giving voice to:

"We return thanks to our Mother, the Earth, which sustains us. We return
thanks to the rivers and streams, which supply us with water. We return thanks
to all herbs which furnish medicine for the cure of our diseases. We return thanks
to the corn and her sisters, the beans and squashes, which give us life. We return
thanks to the wind, which, moving the air, has banished diseases. We return thanks
to the moon and stars, which have given to us their light when the sun was gone.

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

We return thanks to our grandfather, Heno, that he has protected his children from
witches and reptiles and given us his rain. We give thanks to the sun, that he has
looked upon the earth with a beneficent eye. We return thanks to the Great Spirit
in whom is embodied all goodness and who directs all things for the good of his
children."

g 3 3 8

For some five years, previous to June 18, 1673, Pe"re Jacques Marquette had
been engaged in missionary work among the Indians of the Upper Lakes' region.
On the date in question, however, the good father is found in the companionship
of Louis Joliet and four Canadian voyageurs, descending the Mississippi in two frail
birch-bark canoes. Joliet had been specially chosen by those of authority in New
France to accompany Marquette in his mission to the aborigines west of the Green
Bay country. It is not our purpose to give the narrative of their voyage adown
the Great Unknown River, except in so far as it is of vital interest to our particular
subject. Here were two men, totally dissimilar, yet both courageous and ambitious,
drawn closely together in profound admiration for the marvelous works of Nature
seen in the region, until then unknown to the white man. Both like the stalwart
voyageurs manipulating the paddles, are accustomed to the hardships of early
frontier life.

Pe"re Marquette, burning with religious fervor and zeal, was ever on the look-
out for savages to be instructed and converted; Joliet, with an explorer's keen power
of observation, and with the hunter's and trapper's experience, appreciated the vast
stretches of silent prairie and dense forest growth haunted by game and suggestive
of valuable acquisitions of fur and peltries, was not anxious, except for the sake
of information, to meet the natives of the country through which they were now
passing. But, after some ten days of travel, imprints of a human foot were visible
in the soft mud of the river bank, and Marquette and Joliet resolved to leave their
canoes in charge of their engages, and follow the deeply indented trail to which the
footsteps trended. On, into the heart of the majestic forest, they urged their way,
coming at last to an Indian village, and creating, as might be supposed, no end of
excitement among the natives, as, stepping into the open, priest and explorer waved
their hands in token of peace.

"Who are you?" asked Marquette in the soft musical voice with which he had
invested the Algonquin language, and of which he was a master. And the three
Indians who had advanced to meet him, answered, in the same tongue:

"We are Illini," the latter word simply signifying "men." And they offered
the peace pipe to the two pale faces who had so unceremoniously invaded their
domain. "We are Illini," or "men;" as if this gentler tribe had desired to intimate,
by so dignified an answer; "Do not fear us, for we are, as you are, men." So being
persuaded, Marquette and Joliet spent the remainder of that day and the night,
in the village, feasted by the tribe and gaining information of value regarding the
surrounding tribes. The day following, Marquette told them the story of the Cross
in the Algonquin language. At the close of his impassioned appeal, the chief of
the tribe rose, and addressing the good father, said:

"I thank you, Black Robe (the usual Indian appellation for the Jesuit mis-
sionaries), and you, Frenchman," addressing Joliet, "for taking so much trouble
to come and visit us. Never has the earth appeared so beautiful, nor the sun so
brilliant, as today." Then, placing his hand on the head of a little Indian boy, whom
he was about to present to them, the chief continued:

"Here is my son, whom I give to you to show you my heart. I pray you have
pity upon me and my nation. It is you, who know the Great Spirit who made us
all. It is you who speak to Him and know His word. Ask Him to give us life and
health, and come live with us and show Him to us." Such were the Illini, after
whom our State is named, when first approached by the white man.

Escorted to their canoes by several hundred savages in picturesque array, who
lined the river bank until Marquette and his party had passed from sight, priest
and explorer passed into the stretch of country which knew not the pale face. South-
ward they were borne, as far as the Arkansas; then began the return journey, in the
overpowering heat of midsummer, and in a country infested with mosquitoes, and
haunted by malarious emanations, as well as by unfriendly Indians. The latter
were invariably appeased by the gentle, kindly voice of the Jesuit, whose delicate
and careworn visage, and gaunt form — shielded yet defined by the now frayed and
travel-stained robe of his Order — together with the quick movement of the nervous
fingers over the rosary, and that, to the Indian, mysterious insignia depending from
the girdle, seemed to make an appeal to the inner consciousness, transforming the
savage nature into something more typical of manhood.

PLATE No. 96

MAIN VESTIBULE, LOYOLA ACADEMY

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

The voyageurs are now stemming the current on the northward journey, but
the good Pere Marquette, never of robust constitution, lies prone in his canoe, a
victim of the unhealthful exhalations of marsh and swamp. With a skillful sweep
of the paddles, and a sigh of relief on the part of all, the canoes are now gliding over
the more placid waters of the Illinois River and among natives who are friendly dis-
posed. Delay is not to be thought of, however, and, after Marquette's assurance
of a speedy return, the explorers, accompanied by a chief and several young warriors,
push their way from the Illinois into the Des Plaines, making portage to the Chicago
River. Thus they reached Lake Michigan.

Hugging closely the western shore, for it is the fall season, and its chill is in
the atmosphere, they ultimately reach Green Bay, after an absence of four months,
during which time they had covered a distance of some three thousand miles, by
canoe and portage. Joliet went on to Sault Ste. Marie, and from thence to Mon-
treal, while Marquette, sick almost unto death, remained at the wretched mission
of St. Francois Xavier, suffering all through the winter, but gaining strength little
by little during the following summer. It is now autumn, and the consuming
desire to be up and doing forced this heroic missionary to set about keeping his
promise to the Illinois Indians. So on October 25, 1674, he set forth with two
engages along the east shore of Green Bay. They were joined by a band of Potta-
wattomies in five canoes, and a few Illinois Indians occupying four canoes. All
begged to accompany the solitary canoe. The Indians were familiar with the route;
Marquette had been over it once. At the head of Sturgeon Cove, portage was made
to Lake Michigan. October had now given place to November, and the Lake was
swept by storm. They kept within shelter of the shore and we find Marquette
recording, on November 20, "We slep^t at the bluffs, cabined poorly enough." It
is supposed that this site is in the vicinity of Lake Bluff, thirty miles north of Chicago .

About December first, the little company is again camped for the night "about
five leagues from the Chicagou," which, in today's reckoning, brings the site about
fifteen miles from Chicago, and in the neighborhood of the lighthouse at Evanston.
The fourth of the same month they have reached the Chicago River. It is now winter in
earnest, and the frail canoes, tossed and buffeted by wind and wave, before entering
the river, are now, with great difficulty, urged through the already congealing stream.

Reaching what is now known as the South Branch, Marquette was seized by
a severe hemorrhage, and the faithful engage's, realizing that further progress would
be impossible, built a rude hut for shelter; and, eight days later, Marquette records
that buffalo, deer and turkeys were hunted with success. Kindly disposed Indians
journeyed some two leagues in order to bring cornmeal to the suffering Black Robe.
Miles northward were two French traders, one of whom was skilled as a surgeon.
They also came to Marquette with supplies, doing all in their power to alleviate his
sufferings. One can hardly imagine anything more forlorn and wretched than the
environment of this gentle, patient missionary. He bore all with remarkable forti-
tude, and, in fact, the Relations teem with records of these early Jesuit missionaries —
to whom we owe much — of absolute abnegation of self.

Two centuries and some odd years have passed since Marquette wintered on
the original site of Chicago, in a wilderness of prairie and woodland, unobstructed
waterways and far-reaching vistas of the lovely body of water, yet unnamed, and
the extent of which was barely realized. Lying in his primitive hut, his thoughts
dwelling upon spiritual rather than upon temporal affairs, no vision ot what was
to evolve from this desolate, dreary site distracted his meditations. It was not
possible to conceive, even in the two hundred and thirty-six years that were to elapse,
of a metropolis teeming with industrial ingeniousness, and throbbing with a popula-
tion of over two millions, such as Chicago presents today!

Did Marquette's sight embrace the woodland shores and its gentle undulations
just north of what is now Devon Avenue? The bronzed leaves would still be cling-
ing to the oaks, while between might be caught glimpses of a fair and promising
site, which is now occupied by Loyola Academy, a very handsome structure stand-
ing on a natural terrace, and the first of a group of buildings to be known as the
Loyola University. This would be a fitting site for a memorial to Marquette either
in form of a tablet in one of the buildings, or, still better, a statue of heroic propor-
tions on its campus. For it is reasonable to assume, that this gentle missionary of
the Cross, in his desire to meet the Indians, concentrated his vision on the shores,
and, therefore, the present site, now occupied by the religious Order of which he was
a zealous and devoted brother, should prove a suitable locality in which his memory
may be perpetuated. S 3 3 ?>

One invariably feels chilly, even in an imaginative journey with either or with
all of these self-sacrificing missionaries, along our North Shore. There was the

HIGHWAYS

AND

BYWAYS — PAST

AND

PRESENT

good Father Allouez, the worthy successor of Marquette, who, with his companions,
struggled with the ice-floes in this same region, in the winter of 1676 and 1677, drag-
ging their canoes over the snow-bound byways, for many a dreary mile, on their
way to the Illinois Indians. But it was early spring when they entered the mouth
of the Chicago River, so, perchance, the forest-crested bluffs, of what is now Evanston,
as well as the woodland dunes of our present Rogers Park and Edgewater, greeted
the tempest-tossed missionary and his two boatmen with budding leaf and burgeon-
ing blossom, sending them on their way with Nature's benediction and with cheeri-
ness in their souls.

PLATE No. 97
FROM AN EARLY PORTRAIT OF LA SALLE

The first pretentious vessel sailing the waters of Lake Michigan was the Griffin,
constructed by La Salle on the upper Niagara, and manned and equipped by this
indefatigable and fearless explorer, whose name is written large in the annals of
our State. The Griffin, with a crew of thirty-four sailors and laborers, also carried
a company of fur traders and others to assist La Salle in his land explorations. Reach-
ing Green Bay, its cargo, consisting principally of parts of a like vessel to be built
later, was discharged; then it was reladen with furs and despatched eastward, with
injunctions to return as soon as possible with supplies. Authorities differ as to the
size of the Griffin, some claiming forty-five and others sixty tons of burden. Be

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

this as it may, it was a noble and daring forerunner of the white-winged craft, that
was later to brave the storms of old Lake Michigan and pile upon the docks of Chicago,
as well as to bear therefrom that which meant riches and prosperity to the rapidly
developing city. But the winds and waves of Lake Michigan were not friendly to
the first "white wings" skimming its surface. Poor little phantom-ship! No one
knows where she foundered, except that it was in the vicinity of the upper waters
of the Lake. Not a vestige of vessel, valuable cargo, nor of brave crew was ever
found !

La Salle, after despatching the Griffin and cherishing the bright hope of its
speedy return, with his companions embarked on a fleet of four canoes, the prows
of which were turned southward, having the St. Joseph River in view as ultimate
destination. It is a motley company, crowded together with tools, merchandise
and arms, in so small a compass. Let us take a peep at them, as they pass in review
before the silent witnesses of bluff and forest, dune and woodland, constituting what
is now designated the "North Shore."

There is the leader, a young man of thirty-four years. Born in France, of
wealthy parentage, an earnest Catholic educated by the Jesuits, La Salle had, at
the age of twenty-three, crossed the ocean to the land of adventure. Aflame with
enthusiasm to explore the wilderness lying beyond the frontier of New France, he
sacrificed everything to ambition for his country's further aggrandizement. Loyal,
brave, and undaunted by that which would have utterly crushed a weaker nature,
La Salle's tragic fate,' in less than ten years after our "North Shore" had witnessed
his presence upon the stormy waters — it seems that Lake Michigan delighted in
showing off on these particular occasions — is lamentable. "Never," writes Park-
man, "under the impenetrable mail of paladin or crusader beat a heart ot more
intrepid metal. America owes him an enduring memory."

In this company are three Recollet friars, priests of the gray robe. Then there
are ten Canadian voyageurs, those daring, fearless, reckless, wiry individuals, who
invariably plied their paddles to the tune of a merry chanson, brightening the way
and bringing cheeriness out of gloom. They also were experts with the gun, and
could vary the gleam of the paddle with the bark of firearms at will. A solitary
Mohegan Indian, La Salle's faithful servant, added picturesqueness to the party.

It was in October, 1679, that La Salle first set foot on Illinois soil. A heavy
east wind had lashed the Lake into a fury — no worse than that which is familiar
to us of today; but imagine the frail cockleshells, such as the canoes of that day,
being at the mercy of old Lake Michigan when on such a rampage! By the limited
knowledge that comes to us, we might say that La Salle was practically hurled upon
the beach — exactly where is not known; said to be somewhere on the southern
boundary of Lake County, and among unfriendly Indians, who came upon them
during the night and stole some of their very limited supplies, at the same time
pretending friendship. La Salle "pushed resolutely on, passing the mouth of the
Chicago, and skirting the sand dunes" at the south end of the Lake, ultimately
reaching the entrance to the St. Joseph River.

It is New Year's Day, 1682, and La Salle, with his devoted Tonty and faithful
Membre', and the entire company — numbering fifty-four in all — for the exploration
of the Mississippi, is camping upon the present site of Chicago. Crossing the Lake
from the mouth of the Saint Joseph River, they found all the small streams frozen.
So, strapping the canoes on rudely constructed sleds, for miles and miles they dragged
them over the slippery surface, until open water was reached below Lake Peoria.

8888

The name Chicago is said to be derived from "kago" signifying "something;"
and "Chi" from "git-chie," meaning "great." It has been variously spelled,
Chikagu, Chikagou, Chicaqw and Chicaqu, the latter being synonymous with
Chicaque, or Chicaqua, which was the name borne by a long line of Illinois chiefs,
and, thus applied, would signify "great" or "powerful." However, the name applied
by the Indian himself, signifying "wild onion" or "skunkweed," being generally
accepted, we can better appreciate the suggestion of an early writer upon this
subject, who proposed that "Chicago forestall criticism by adopting the 'Chicagou'
(wild onion) from root to flower as its civic emblem, 'gare a louche.' Touch it who dare! "

8888

In 1773, William Murray, a British subject, residing at Kaskaskia, induced the
Indians to part with the land upon which Chicago now stands, as well as all the
land west of the same to the Mississippi River, and south to where the Mississippi
joins the Illinois, and here we are confronted by the first North Shore real estate
deal, when we find that Murray's transaction involved all the land north, as far as

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

the present site of Waukegan. And five shillings (one dollar and a quarter) together
with a small amount of merchandise was the consideration!

The treaty of Greenville, August 3, 1795, eventually disposed of this claim,
and a piece of land, six miles square, from the mouth of the Chicago River, emptying
into the southwest end of Lake Michigan, and where a French fort had formerly
stood, was ceded by the Indians to the United States Government. There are three
treaties particularly interesting to the North Shore dwellers. By the treaty of Saint
Louis, August 24, 1816 — four years after the Fort Dearborn massacre as well as the
year of its rebuilding — twenty miles of the Lake front, now immediately south of
Evanston, as well as a great adjacent territory lying west and south, was ceded by
the Indians. Its northern boundary was defined by that old street, which for years
bore the title of "Indian Boundary," and which, unfortunately, has been robbed
of its historic as well as romantic interest by the municipal authorities changing it
to "Rogers Avenue." The Indian retained his right to hunt and fish within the
tract of land, defined as "eleven miles north and ten miles south of the mouth of
the Chicago River, so long as it may continue the property of the United States."
By the treaty of Prairie du Chien the Lake front, from what is now Kenilworth,
to Indian Boundary, Rogers Park, and including the present site of Wilmette and
Evanston with land west of the same, was ceded by the Indians on July 29, 1829.

The final treaty of Chicago, September 20, 1833, when the Pottawattomies,
numbering some five thousand, ceded all that remained of their lands in Illinois
and Wisconsin, was consummated on the North Shore. In a book dedicated to
Washington Irving, and published in London, in 1835, the scene of this final yielding
is graphically described by an eye witness, in the person of Charles J. Latrobe,
who accompanied Mr. Irving on his tour over the prairies, and whom the latter
describes as "a man of a thousand occupations; a botanist, a geologist, a hunter
of beetles and butterflies, a musical amateur, a sketcher of no mean pretensions,
in short, a complete virtuoso; added to which, he was very indefatigable, if not
always, a very successful sportsman." Mr. Latrobe writes:

"When within five miles of Chicago we came to the first Indian encampment.
Five thousand Indians were said to be collected around this little upstart village.
We found the village on our arrival crowded to excess, and we procured, with great
difficulty, a small apartment, comfortless and noisy, from its close proximity to
others, but quite as good as we could have hoped for. The Pottawattomies were
encamped on all sides — on the level prairie beyond the scattered village, beneath
the shelter of the low woods on the side of the small river, or to the leeward of the
sandhills, near the beach of the Lake. A preliminary council had been held some
days before our arrival. The principal commissioners had opened it, as we learned,
by stating, that 'as their great father in Washington had heard they wished to sell
their land, he had sent commissioners to treat with them.' The Indians promptly
answered, 'that the great father in Washington must have seen a bad bird which
had told him a lie, for that, far from wishing to sell their land, they wished to keep
it.' The commissioner, nothing daunted, replied: 'That, nevertheless, as they had
come together for a council, they must take the matter into consultation.' He
then explained to them promptly the wishes and intentions of their great father,
and asked their opinion thereon. Thus pressed, they looked at the sky, saw a few
wandering clouds, and straightway adjourned sine die, 'as the weather is not clear
enough for so solemn a council.' However, as the treaty had been opened, provi-
sion was supplied to them by regular rations; and the same night they had great
rejoicing — danced the war dance and kept the eyes and ears of all open by running and
howling about the village. Such was the state of affairs on our arrival. Companies
of old warriors might be seen smoking under every bush; arguing, palavering
or pow- wowing with great earnestness; but there seemed no possibility of bringing
them to another council in a hurry. . . I loved to stroll out toward sunset across
the river, and gaze upon the level horizon, stretching to the northwest over the
surface of the prairie, dotted with innumerable objects, far and near. Not far from
the river lay many groups of tents, constructed of coarse canvas blankets, and
surmounted by poles, supporting meat, moccasins and rags. Their vicinity was always
enlivened by various painted Indian figures dressed in the most gaudy attire. The
interior of the hovels generally displayed a confined area, perhaps covered with a
few half rotten mats or shavings, upon which men, women, children and baggage
were heaped pell-mell. Far and wide the grassy prairie teemed with figures; warriors
mounted or on foot, squaws and horses. Here a race between three or four Indian
ponies, each carrying a double rider, whooping and yelling like fiends. There, a
solitary horseman, with a long spear, turbaned like an Arab, scouring along at full
speed — groups of hobbled horses; Indian dogs and children, or a grave conclave of gray
chiefs, seated on the grass in consultation. It was amusing to wind silently from group

PLATE No. 99
THE PRESENT
Fort Sheridan, 26 Miles North of the Site of Fort Dearborn

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

to group — here noting the raised knife, the sudden drunken brawl, quashed by the
good-natured and even playful interference of the neighbors; there a party breaking
up their encampment, and falling with their little train of loaded ponies and wolfish
dogs into the deep, black, narrow trail running to the north. . . It is a grievous
thing that the government is not strong handed enough to put a stop to the shameful
and scandalous sale of whiskey to these poor miserable wretches. But here lie casks
of it for sale under the very eyes of the commissioners, met together for purposes
which demand that sobriety should be maintained, were it that no one should be
able to lay at their door an accusation of unfair dealing and of having taken advan-
tage of the helpless Indian in a bargain, whereby the people of the United States
were to be so greatly the gainers. Day after day passed. It was in vain that the
signal given from the fort gave notice of an assemblage of chiefs at the council fire.
Reasons were always found for its delay. One day an influential chief was not in
the way; another, the sky looked cloudy, and the Indian never performs an important
business except the sky be clear. At length, on September aist, the Pottawattomies
resolved to meet the commissioners. We were politely invited to be present. The
council fire was lighted under a spacious, open shed, on the green meadows, on the
opposite side of the river from that on which the fort stood. From the difficulty
of getting all together it was late in the afternoon when they all assembled. There
might be twenty or thirty chiefs present, seated at the lower end of the enclosure,
while the commissioners, interpreters, etc., were at the upper. The palaver was
opened by the principal commissioner. The relative positions of the commissioners
and the whites before the council fire, and that of the red children of the forest and
prairie, were to me strikingly impressive. The light of the setting sun streaming
in under the council house fell full on the countenances of the former, as they faced
west — while the pale light of the east, hardly illuminated the dark and painted
lineaments of the poor Indians, whose souls evidently clave to their birthright.
. . . Even though convinced of the necessity of their removal, my heart bled for
them in their desolation and decline. Ignorant and degraded as they may have
been in their original state, their degradation is now tenfold, after years of inter-
course with the whites; and their speedy disappearance from the earth appears as
certain as though it were accomplished. . . Even if he had the will, the power
would be wanting for the Indian to keep his territory, and that the business of
arranging the terms of an Indian treaty, whatever it might have been, two hun-
dred years ago, while the Indian tribes had not, as now, thrown aside the rude but
vigorous intellectual character which distinguished many among them, now lies
between the various traders, agents, creditors and half-breeds of the tribes, on whom
custom and necessity have made the degraded chief a dependent of the govern-
ment agents. Before we left Chicago on the twenty-fifth, three or four days later,
the treaty with the Pottawattomies was concluded — the commissioners putting
their hands, and the assembled chiefs their paws, to the same."

Space forbids complete citation of this entertaining narrative, but sufficient has
been quoted to put the reader in touch with the pathetic drama enacted on the
North Shore less than a century ago. Over the trails, many of which are now
clearly defined highways, passed the Indian. What a commingling of distress and
of doubt must have taken possession of his soul! Was it the will of his "Kitche-
manito" — this prerogative exercised by his "great father" at Washington? To his
right are the wonderful waters, of which his canoe, many a time, has been the play-
thing, and in which he loved to sink his net, to again draw it upward with its finny
feast — and the incoming wavelets sound as a dirge to his distraught understanding.
The trail leads him into the woodlands, from whence he has obtained materials for
building his canoe — and now the silver birches seem to extend their graceful branches
in farewell, while the whispering winds make threnetic music, the like of which he
has never before heard. On his left is the fair, far-reaching prairie, over which he
has roamed and hunted — a king in his own right! Was he conscious of having sold
his birthright for a "mess of pottage?" We shall never know. But he, and those
of his kind, cherished resentment of the white man's invasion of his territory until
it found culmination in the "year of our hundred years," at the Custer massacre.
After which there was no quarter shown the Indian.

8 @ 8 8

As in every section of America, the Indian's departure from any particular
locality, or his confinement within the reservation restrictions, meant a further
settlement of the country. Confidence took possession of the homeseekers, not
only of those in America itself, but in lands across the sea, and the tide of immigra-
tion now began to flow westward, until the growth of the city of Chicago became
phenomenal. It had its reverses in the form of flood, fire and panic, as well as in

100

101

Courtesy Mrs. B. A. Squires PLATE No. 101

HOMESTEAD OF THE LATE ROBERT R. CLARK

(Built in 1859)

Intersection Halsted and Clark Streets, Chicago

PLATE No. 102

THE LAKE VIEW HOUSE

(Permission Mr. James J. Wilson and Chicago Historical Society)

102

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

epidemics of disease; but the inspiration to accomplish always remained. Skies,
beclouded at times, but more generally beneficent; the inland sea at its feet, waiting
the moment when the hulls of brig, schooner and propeller should, in turn, plough
or churn its waters in fair competition for the commerce that must eventually come
this way; boundless prairies to the west and south, awaiting the turn of the plow
and the skill of the husbandman; undulating woodlands, and forests north, in which
might nestle some of the fairest of homes. All followed in due course, after the
significant treaty, disposing of the Indians — the Pottawattomies — familiar to this
neighborhood.

The Great (everything is associated with this adjective in Chicago) Fire desolated
the North Side as far as Fullerton Avenue, while before that period (1871) many
charming country homes were snuggled in among the woods, in and around Lake
View. One of these has historical significance, as it played its part as a refuge to
many who had been rendered homeless by the dire catastrophe that had practically
wiped out the whole city. To this home, built in 1859, by the late Robert R. Clark —
afterward police commissioner in Lake View — came the sufferers from the North
Side. The latter was the distinguishing appellation of that portion of the city,
extending beyond the river to the north — the designation, "North Shore," is (of
later origin. The house to which we have reference is still in existence on North
Halsted Street, at the intersection of Clark Street. In any vehicle that could be
procured, but mostly on foot, came the refugees. The house was commodious, and
its hospitality was extended until its walls fairly bulged, while its park-like setting,
of some sixteen acres, assumed the appearance of a vast camp, where tents or any-
thing that might be utilized as an equivalent were erected for temporary shelter.
Through cheery vistas in the forest-growth eastward Mr. Clark's residence then
commanding an uninterrupted view, was seen the shimmering surface of the Lake,
and the victims of the dire catastrophe took heart of grace and breathed "I Will."

There was also a hotel, called the Lake View House, having been opened on
July 4, 1854, occupying a site at the northwest corner of what is now designated
Grace Street and Sheridan Road. This had been built by James H. Rees and Elisha
E. Huntley, and was, without doubt, the first hotel erected in close proximity to
the Lake, and to demonstrate that the North Shore was the locality, par excellence,
as a summer abiding place. This hostelry, undoubtedly sheltered sufferers from
the fire. It passed through many vicissitudes, until the year 1890, and then was
torn down, and, like the Indian before it, gave way to the onward march of progress.

No one seems to really know when the stretches of desirable land to the north
of the city took unto themselves the inclusive and exclusive dignity of being addressed
as the "North Shore." This designation has for some long time past, however,
been coveted as a desirable prefix, not only to real estate, but to commercial
affairs generally, all clinging to it as to a talisman from which prosperity is bound to
come. While the designation, "North Shore," contains a charm, not easily put
into words, by the fortunate possessor of a home — be it a humble or a more pre-
tentious structure — in this vicinity. The winds, either gentle or otherwise, from
both Lake and prairie, have chanted or thundered paeans in its favor, until, hehold!
The North Shore extends anywhere from three to six miles west of the body of
water, which first suggested "shore," the ubiquitous dealer in real estate, undoubtedly
supplying the prefix. And along this magic trail the city has culled some of its
fairest additions toward a Greater Chicago — its northern limits now touching elbow
with the beautiful Evanston.

As we have seen, the western shore of the Lake, from the early part of the seven-
teenth century, became an important highway between Chicago portage and Green
Bay and Mackinac, and for nearly a century and a half Chicago portage maintained
its position as a desirable gateway for canoes to the water system of Illinois. It
does not require much of an imagination to picture the narrow canoes, sharp of
stern and bow, made of layers of birchbark or of skin, stretched over a frail frame-
work, either skimming the surface of, or doing battle with, the wind-swept waters
of the Lake, and propelled by the expert and vigorous stroke of the Canadian voyageur
to the tune of his merry chanson. He was ever merry; this swarthy-faced individual,
accustomed as he was to privation and toil, to danger, as well as to extreme hard-
ship and isolation. On his lip was ever a smile, a song, or a quip. He played his
part well in beguiling the weary hours of travel under conditions of which we, in
this twentieth century, can form no conception. The engage" of missionary and of
hunter and of trader was much of the same order, capable, faithful, fearless and cheerful.

In a procession pictured in the imagination passes in review Indian, mis-
sionary— Jesuit and Re"collet — explorer, hunter, trader, voyageur, adown the
western shore of the Lake whose charm lies in its varied moods, never looking today
as it did yesterday, but at most times a glorious mirror in which is reflected the

103

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

azure face of the heavens. This interesting company saw the weathered and cor-
rugated bluffs, or the low-lying dunes, upon which we stand today, with varied
interests; but not one — not even he from the environment of a highly civilized and
romantic nation — ever dreamed of the standard of our present evolution!

The beach is of import, also, for the stones and pebbles yielded by the Lake,
provided material for the implements and weapons used by the Indian, even in
an era of which we have no record. Such a beach as that extending from the foot
of Columbia Avenue, Rogers Park, without doubt afforded site for a workshop
for the native artisan, skilled in the manufacture of such utensils and weapons.
Later, his pale-faced brother, in the same neighborhood, utilized like material in
rearing an entire structure — well proportioned and artistic of design; the beach
stones serving his purpose, admirably, as building material. The aboriginal never
discovered the subtle lights, the exquisite colorings, of which the surface of these
stones is susceptible, when massed together in a wall. That was left for the appre-
ciation of his white brother, only a few of whom, unfortunately, realize the adapta-
bility of this material to artistic and individual residence structures.

But let us now turn our attention inland, toward that which remains of the
ancient forest, grove and woodland, along this same North Shore. Here, extending
near and far, were the native wigwams, grouped in villages, and, connected by trails —
those well-defined byways over which the softly shod moccasined feet trod, in the
long ago. O mutable waters of our lovely inland sea! O many-hued stones and
pebbles of our North Shore beach! O scarred bluff and wind-swept dune; forest
oak and silver birch! If speech were only thine! Silent witnesses of the past, yet
bearing indisputable evidence whereby the student, the archaeologist may build
for our instruction and edification! But many mysteries must remain unsolved.

Over which particular trail to the north, and along our shore fled the fearless
and wounded Tonty? The roots of the wild onion, with difficulty torn from the
frozen earth, and the acorns, bushels of which we may yet gather in these North
Shore woods, his only diet! Did the so-called Indian trees, one or two of which we
still find in this vicinity, but which are fast disappearing, lend their aid in his guid-
ance through the forest? Probably we shall never know for certainty which trail
he chose. Those curious looking Indian trees, which have the appearance of being
bent and fastened down, the elbow part, in course of time, taking root and sprouting
up beside the parent stem, a separate yet united offshoot. They were the Indian's
signposts, marking the direction of the trail in the intricate forest. Many of these
queer trees, principally of the white oak variety, bear evidence of having thus stood

for a century or more.

CJ ® d d

It is of interest to note the various periods in which individual dwellers, with
unbounded faith in its future, united together in platting and recording each suburb
as a village. The first to receive this honor was Port Clinton, now a part of High-
land Park, platted and recorded in 1850. Evanston followed in 1854; Lake Forest
in 1857; Highland Park, 1869; Wilmette, 1871; Rogers Park, 1872, Winnetka, 1873;
Glencoe, 1873; Gilbert Hubbard's Subdivision, now known as Hubbard Woods, 1874;
Argyle Park, 1884; Edgewater, 1887; Kenilworth, 1890, with the Kenilworth Company's
addition in 1892. Argyle Park, the two Edgewaters and Rogers Park are now part
of the city of Chicago. Edgewater's founder was Mr. J. Lewis Cochran. He sub-
divided 350 acres, putting in street improvements and building some three hundred
houses. It required not only a large amount of capital, but unbounded faith in
the future. The only transportation was the Evanston branch of the Chicago,
Milwaukee & St. Paul R. R., with terminus at the Union Depot. In 1893, the
electric surface road was opened. Many of us recall the delight with which we
hailed this buzzing innovator, whose bumblebeeish vibrations were as music to the
ears of the long-suffering "better transportation" advocate. Then the "trolley-
parties" with which the road favored its patrons! We recall how the single track,
interspersed here and there with convenient sidings, pushed through byways, tangled
and overgrown with brushwood and trees. In the open car, on a summer evening,
this ride was particularly enjoyable, for trees and bushes reaching out on either side
swished against the invader in musical protest, while the air was fragrant with woodsy
sweets, and, between whiles, the Lake might be seen under the silvered sheen of moon-
light. Now the Evanston Division of the Northwestern Elevated carries a host of
patrons over the original C. M. & St. P. tracks.

While on this subject of transportation, a word for the enterprise of Chicago's
first railroad (1848), now generally designated as the Chicago & North- Western.
It has passed through so many vicissitudes that its evolution into the road of today
reads like romance. Witness now its finely equipped Milwaukee Division, for this
has been a power in the development of the North Shore suburbs and towns. Its

104

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

fine embankments and subways, its artistic stations in an environment of parkway
and gardens, have all helped toward evolution from the country village, with its
primitive methods, to the fair and progressive suburbs of the city and the prosperous
towns and cities beyond.

"In no section so near the center of the city," said Mr. Albert G. Wheeler, in
conversation with the writer, "can be found such desirable territory for an exclusive
residence district as on the mile wide strip, extending from Argyle Park along the
North Shore. It is absolutely free from factories, noise and smoke." And he has
demonstrated his faith in this expressed belief by erecting one of the finest resi-
dences to be found within its limits.

8883

Rogers Park, whose northern boundary forms the city limits, has also been
benefited by its enterprising subdividers and home-builders. One of the pioneers
in this particular is Mr. Franklin H. Doland. In 1885 he purchased sixteen acres
in this vicinity, built his residence — at that time the most costly structure in Rogers
Park — and after removing here with his family, purchased another twenty-three
acres. Mr. Doland was also the pioneer of cement and stone sidewalks, as well as
of the plan of arranging avenues on either side of the street. In his subdivisions
he built about four miles of sidewalk and planted over four thousand trees. Many
of the exquisitely shaded streets of the northern portion of the suburb owe their
origin, not only to the order in planting, but to the science in trimming, exercised
by Mr. Doland 's thought for the future. There is no more beautiful part of the
suburb than Kenilworth Avenue, extending from Perry Avenue westward to Clark
Street, with its tall elms, shading, yet never intruding upon residence or sidewalk.
Mr. John M. Carlson has also done much as a home-builder. His enterprises have
been more in the direction of the less pretentious class of homes, and, as such, a need
was met; convenience and practicability being the first consideration, and such plan-
ning has brought forth good results. To the north, in the locality of Rogers Park,
known as Birchwood, Mr. Charles H. Thompson has been the magician under whose
wand have arisen many very artistic and individual residences, none of which awaits
longer than the getting rid of the workmen for the coming of the occupant and owner.

Before streets were opened and before subdivisions were in course of progress
the byways leading to the Lake, particularly east of the C. M. & St. P. tracks —
Sheridan Road then being little more than a trail — the woodlands were rich in flower
growth. The hepatica, the violet and a host of other sweet blossoms, together with
a veritable riot of roses, made the months of May and June a delight in this par-
ticular section. The cucumber vine, with its delicate lace-like beauty, vied with
woodbine, wild grape and bittersweet in gracefully draping each defect of shattered
and fallen treegrowth. These same charming artists of the forest persisted in veil-
ing the real estate signs, as if in protest at their intrusion. The stately elder with
its broad umbels of cream-colored and white blossoms, followed by the rich purple
and red fruit, imparted to the byways an ever-varying touch of form and hue. The
great charm of the Rogers Park woodlands, however, was its silver birch growth,
the "lady birch" as it is designated by some authorities. Tenderest touches of
green splashed with yellow in the spring; their columns of silver imparting a striking
note of beauty in the dense and shadowy byways of summer; while autumn changed
their delicate foliage to veritable flakes of gold, and my Lady Birch then declared
herself Queen of the Woodlands! In the winter they assumed a rare individuality,
standing like pillars of light in purpled shadows, and outvieing the snow-blanketed
earth in their brilliancy. Oh! how radiant they appeared when caught in the slant-
ing rays of a rose-colored sunset! And when Old Sol arose from his bed on the
eastern horizon of the Lake, how tenderly mysterious they became, quivering with
something akin to the emotion of a messenger who has something surprising to
impart. You dear old birch trees! Why was speech denied you ? Our distinguished
New England poet immortalized thee —

"Give me of your bark,
O Birch-Tree!"

"Lay aside your cloak, O birch-tree!
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper,
For the summer-time is coming,
And the sun is warm in heaven,
And you need no white-skin wrapper!"
Thus aloud cried Hiawatha.

There were many "Hiawathas," before the coming of the white man, in the
birchwoods on the site of what is now called Rogers Park, busy building canoes from
the material at hand. In a few instances the birch tree has been coaxed to remain,
well cared for on private property. But, as a rule, they resented the onward march

105

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

of civilization, and, like the Indian who loved them, after having bravely faced new
and strange conditions, at last submitted to the inevitable. Rogers Park should
have been named "Birchwcod, for its central and southern portion was rich in
groves of these beautiful trees, and the exclusive designation of its northern portion
is not in keeping with the truth of its former natural environment.

In 1848, Mr. Phillip Rogers, after whom the suburb is named, purchased from
the government a large tract containing 2800 acres, which extended from the Lake
to Jefferson, its southern boundary being Sunnyside Avenue, and its northern desig-
nation "Indian Boundary," or what is now called Rogers Avenue. Mr. Rogers
paid $1.25 per acre, and disposed of it or left it to his heirs as acre property. One
hundred acres in the western portion of this original tract, which for some years
has been known as the Schmedtgen estate, has been recently sold for $1000 per acre.
Rogers Park, unfortunately, did not, until quite recently, set aside any land for
park purposes.

In September, 1895, J. Harrison White, in connection with his already established
business as a publisher of medical journals, removed the office of these publications
to Rogers Park, and here, in conjunction with his wife, Marian A. White, issued a
weekly paper known as the "North Shore Suburban," in the interests of the suburbs
designated the "North Shore." Mr. White was an experienced newspaper man,
and Mrs. White already a writer of acknowledged ability. Fearlessly they handled
the questions of public improvements, and one of the earliest editorials, from which
quotation is made, will show the spirit of the publication, as well as the condition
of the suburb at that time, in contrast with what it is at present.

Editorial from ' ' Nortli Shore Suburban," published "at Rogers Park, October
4, 1895. and headed "Improvement Committee Body Needed:"

"It is evident that Rogers Park is in need of a Committee on Improvements.
If some of our leading men would only band together for this purpose we should
not remain in the sort of jaytown condition. Our representatives live too far from
us, and we are too far away from the rest of the city fathers for them to keep a
watchful care of our interests; so between the two we are about in the same sort
of unfinished condition, with regard to the care of our streets, as when we dropped
our tools and hurrahed for annexation. A committee whose business it would be
to look after all vexatious annoyances, such as uneven sidewalks, ploughed up instead
of paved streets; the extermination of the all too friendly bur that sticketh closer
than a brother; the destruction of the festive ragweed and other weeds that obstruct
the pathway — even on cemented ways; the removal of garbage; the littering of the
streets, etc., together with many more nuisances than we are able to enumerate,
could do much by giving a little time toward the rapid improvement of this portion
of the city."

Editorials similar in tone followed until October 23, 1896, and on November 24
of that year the Rogers Park Improvement Association sprang into existence, with
Professor Leach as president: J. I. Ennis, secretary, and James J. Barbour, treasurer.
They were three active, energetic and enthusiastic workers, and to these and others,
the pioneers of needed improvements and the correction of abuses, Rogers Park
owes much.

The North Shore Park District, organized May 15, 1900, with five commissioners,
L. G. Kirkland, F. H. Doland, C. L. Benson, R. W. Vasey and J. I. Ennis, also
received its first impetus from the "North Shore Suburban." Mr. Kirkland was
the first president, and Mr. J. Fred McGuire the first secretary of this second sig-
nificant improvement association, and the territory embraced all of Rogers Park
between Clark Street and Lake Michigan, and between Indian Boundary and Devon
Avenue. There is a strip of land on the Lake front, extending half a block north
and south of Farwell Avenue, which is now under improvement for park purposes.
Rogers Park is a fitting site for the study of the landscape gardener, and in recent
years Mr. A. Setterberg has done much toward suggesting landscape art. He has
had much experience, loves trees, and delights in preserving the natural growth in
the residence districts, so by judicious cutting out and pruning he makes this natural
growth subservient to his own immediate plans and adjuncts to an artistic whole.

s & & e

The farther north one travels the higher the shore line and the more varied
the contour of the land, and the more vigorous the forest growth. Evanston is a
beautiful city, ideal in its preservation of the forest trees and in its system of well-
paved and neatly kept thoroughfares. The stranger is impressed with the fact that
each individual Evanstonian takes a personal pride in the neat appearance of his
city. There are many beautiful homes here; many dear, old-fashioned structures,
as well as those of more modern design and imposing appearance; but all in an

106

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND

PRESENT

environment of emerald lawn, graceful shrub, clinging vine and stately trees. The
immediate Lake front has been preserved for park purposes, considerable land having
been redeemed from the Lake itself; the famous Sheridan Road, as a rule, forming
the western boundary of this most perfect system of devoting a choice stretch of
land to the public good. This highway, which extends for thirty miles northward
from Chicago — it being a part of the latter's boulevard system — was conceived by
an Evanstonian, the late Volney W. Foster. Evanston's beginnings center in the
history of its University, 560 acres being purchased by the trustees in 1854, for the
purpose of developing this higher class education, and the growth of the university
is, to a certain extent, the development of the city itself. Founded in love and in
sincerity, is it wonder that Evanston should later become known as the "classic"
city of the West? It received its name in honor of Dr. John Evans, who took a
very active part in securing the site for the University. Ten students in a frame
building in 1855! Over four thousand in handsome brick and stone edifices in 1909!

Courtesy Mr. Frank R. Grover PLATE No. 103

North Shore Residence of Antoine Ouilmette and Family (1828-1844)

From Water Color Drawing by Mr. Charles P. Westerfield

The highways and byways of the past in Evanston are of unusual interest,
and its Historical Society has been active in perpetuating memories of the native
people that roamed at will through its superb forest environment, hunting the deer
or other animals then familiar to its vicinity. Besides the ever-present trail, the
natural highway of the Indian, has, as in other places along the North Shore, been
appropriated by the white man, and converted into well-paved streets and boule-
vards, along which the automobile has taken right of way; while Indian mounds
and graves have been found in many localities within the boundary of the city,
and frequently on sites now occupied by one or more of the University buildings
themselves, or by private residences. Within two miles of its present city limits,

107

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

the good Father Pinet, in 1696, had his "Mission of the Guardian Angel" among
the Miami Indians, and here, in 1699, he was visited by Saint Cosme and others,
with Henry de Tonty as guide and protector, while on their way to the Illinois
country, via the Chicago portage.

3 g g g

Wilmette takes its name from the wife of Antoine Ouilmette, a Frenchman,
who married Archange, a Pottawattomie maiden. Ouilmette was one of the first
white settlers in Chicago occupying one of the four cabins that constituted the
settlement of Chicago, in 1803. There were born to the Ouilmettes eight children,
the names of whom appear in the several affidavits, deeds and documents relating
to the title to the reservation, upon the site of which the greater portion of Wil-
mette, as well as a part of Evanston, now stands. Ouilmette's marriage to Archange,
the Pottawattomie, is historical, for it is said to be the first North Shore wedding
of which there is any record. The wedding took place at Gross Point in 1796.
Ouilmette's daughter, Elizabeth, was twice married. Her first husband was Michael
Welch, who has the honor of being designated not only the "first Irishman" in
Chicago, but the first of his nationality on the Xorth Shore. His marriage with
Elizabeth Ouilmette took place on May n, 1830, and in a log cabin that stood until
1903 on the east side of Sheridan Road, two blocks north of the Kenilworth water
tower. Fortunately, through the enterprise of Mr. Frank R. Grover of Evanston,
a photograph was taken of this old historic hut before it was removed. There is a
fine forest growth in Wilmette, much of which is still in a good state of preservation.
Cultivation and trimming will do much to keep these trees in condition, whereby
the suburban dweller may be benefited. We have heard of houses being built to
accommodate the tree growth, and it is not a bad plan, providing there is nothing
freakish in the design. However, much of the wildwood growth, in the form of
flowers and hedges of roses, may be preserved by the settler on his own particular
lot. For many of them take kindly to being transplanted, as the writer knows from
personal experience.

The new North Shore channel of the Chicago Sanitary District has its entrance
from Lake Michigan in Wilmette, a short distance north of the Evanston limits,
where a harbor has been built and where the commissioners have created from the
material taken from the ditch a park on its north bank. The water flows into the
canal at the rate of 1000 cubic feet per second, which is of sufficient force to dilute
all sewage that may be turned into it. Great possibilities for beautifying the banks
of this canal through the suburban residence sections is evident, and will, in all
probability, be considered seriously in some well organized association, such as our
Park Boards. The right of way of the channel is 600 feet in width; the canal is
from 26 to 30 feet in width at bottom, with a i3o-feet width at top, and 13 feet of
depth, and the approximate cost is $2,500,000.

About fifteen miles north of Chicago is Kenilworth, which has a marked indi-
viduality. Here was opportunity for landscape artist and architect to work in
unison, and here, too, it being the youngest of the North Shore settlements, each
could profit by the advantages or disadvantages of the planning and building of
the earlier communities; and to their credit, be it recorded, Kenilworth stands alone
in having made the best of all that Nature bestowed. Even Evanston, as well as
Highland Park and Rogers Park, have had to destroy in modern times that which
was planned and builded in earlier times. Not so will it be with Kenilworth. The
entrance to this lovely home town is beyond reproach ; its large fountain and cemented
angles of streets, together with its superb tree growth, suggest a park of some mag-
nitude and beauty. No straggling line of one-story stores, no freaks of the builder
of the "railroad" street offend the eye. The noble forest growth of oak, elm, ash
and other native trees have been barely cleared to admit of residences being built,
yet all is in order and arranged with artistic taste. The large trees are trimmed
so as not to interfere, their tops forming a canopy of varied green in summer, while
in winter they are etched against the sky line or casting athwart the snow-covered
lawns blue and purple traceries, such as no artist could hope to imitate with any
degree of success. Nothing had stood in this wilderness of forest previous to its
being platted as a desirable residence site, except the wigwam of the Indian and
a solitary log cabin, which stood on the bluff, thirty-five feet above the Lake, and in
which Elizabeth Ouilmette was married to Michael Welch. Well paved and cleanly
streets, over which much of the original forest growth throws its grateful shade
and protection, make of Kenilworth a desirable home place.

g g g g

Winnetka is another ideal site, and many pretentious homes are here in large
grounds and amid the most charming environment of tree and shrubbery. Sheridan

108

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

PAST AND PRESENT

Road takes its way through the village at one block west of the Lake. The northern
portion of Winnetka is picturesquely designed. The winding thoroughfares, with
little parks ornamented with shrubbery and intersecting the streets at right angles,
are delightful surprises to the tourist, either on foot or in a vehicle. The contour
of the land is rising and rolling, and the outlook on the Lake a dream. It was off
the Winnetka shore that the ill-fated Lady Elgin went down November 7, 1860,
with all on board. Part of its hull is still visible in the shallow waters east of the
charmingly artistic residence of Mr. Franklin Rudolph. Winnetka in summer is
most beautiful, but in the autumn it is gloriously beautiful. No pen can describe,
no painting convey any just record of the exquisite mingling of colors in the foliage.
The softened rays of sunlight twinkle between canopies of gold, crimson and rare
bronze, while eastward the waters lie bathed in an atmosphere of indescribable hue.

Photo by Frank R. Grover

LOG HOUSE AT KENILWORTH, BUILT BY JOHN DOYLE

Torn down about 1902
(Courtesy Chicago Historical Society)

PLATE No. 104

Winnetka is said to be an Indian word meaning "beautiful place." And no one
can deny that it has a right to the title. The rising ground in its northern portion
melts imperceptibly into what is known as Hubbard Woods, where there are many
sequestered homes of modern architectural lines which conform to their picturesque
environment. Hubbard Woods was, until recently, recognized as Lakeside — so
named in 1870 by David Gage of Chicago, the name being suggested by its proximity
to the Lake. Before this it was named Taylorsville, after the Taylor family, who
were its earliest settlers. Its change to Hubbard Woods was in honor of Gordon S.
Hubbard, who at one time owned the acres comprising this site.

g 8 g g

Glencoe was for a long time a dear old sleepy locality in which the homes were
scarcely discernible from the public thoroughfares, so closely nestled were they to
woodland and adorned with vine growth. Now it is a burgh of some distinction in
the list of North Shore towns. The writer well recalls the advent of Melville E.

109

PLATE No. 105

INDIAN TRAIL TREE AT LAKESIDE

(Courtesy Chicago Historical Society)

110

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

Stone in this neighborhood. He was the first to advocate improvements along
modern lines, and built a charming house on the edge of a ravine facing what is
now Sheridan Road. This ravine had to be bridged before the building material
could be brought there, and we believe this was the first iron bridge built in the
vicinity, for other ravines were bridged with wood, and many of these had been
swept away by fire. It was a great accommodation to those living north of Glencoe,
as the bridge did away with a difficulty encountered in driving south. Sheridan
Road in this vicinity at that time was a country road with deep and irregular ruts,
hard enough in summer, but simply impassable during the spring and fall, the
mud being as sticky as only a clay soil can be. It was used principally by farmers
drawing loads of wood, for "cord- wood" was the principal fuel used here at that
time. The writer, when moving to Rogers Park, in 1893, brought some of this fuel
along, and had a woodpile in the back yard for many a long day.

There are now many handsome residences in Glencoe, as well as finely kept
thoroughfares. Among the most striking of these homes is that of Mr. Harry Rubens.
It is so unique that it is worth writing about. It stands in the midst of the most
lovely park acreage the writer has seen, outside of Old England. You have to
literally find the house, and the safer plan is to keep to the broad driveway after
you enter the stone gateway, with its clock that chimes musically for the benefit
of all Glencoe. You twist and turn, and become lost in the wonder of the park-
like grounds. Then you are conscious of approaching a structure in keeping with
what you have already seen. But there is the lily pond, like a jewel in a setting!
Hemlock, whispering pines, trees of every variety, and the most brilliant bank of
scarlet salvias, while, beyond, a vista of green and undulating surface, in which the
native growth has been encouraged, is the Lake, which on that particular day, looked
like a glimpse of the Rhine. Old Lake Michigan has many moods, and, on occasion,
it can assume the aspect of any of the most famous and lovely waters of the world.

The name of Glencoe has a romantic origin. Mr. W. S. Gurnee, a well-known
citizen of early Chicago, was smitten by the charms of the place, which suggested
to him vale and dale and dell and dingle, and lastly, "glen." His wife was a Miss
Coe, and he gallantly added her maiden name as a completion; so it has come to
us as the pretty title of Glencoe. You see, in spite of criticism to the contrary, there
was a Chicago man in the long ago, who was romantic as well as commercial.

3888

It is nearly twenty- five years since the writer went to live in Ravinia, now a
portion of Highland Park. Much of the original forest growth was here, particularly
bordering the deep ravines, which gashed the land through to the Lake. A few
Indian trail trees were here, too, and adjacent to the Lake were sections of a clearly
defined and deeply indented trail. The rains and frosts, as well as the dashings ot
the storm-lashed waters below, had caused the clay bluffs to wear, until tons of earth,
with some of the finest forest trees and portions of this trail, would slip to the beach;
or, being arrested in its progress by a part of some previous disintegration, it would
settle in the most unique fashion, the trees reaching out horizontally to the water,
while their roots remained embedded in the soil. The writer was more than once,
during the equinoctial gales, a witness to just such a disintegration of the bluff;
at one time barely [escaping being buried underneath. A visit to the shore on the
following morning revealed quantities of sparkling material, having the appear-
ance, to the uninitiated, of gold ore. Nuggets of it were carefully gathered, and
the head of the household took the same — being persistently enjoined to say nothing
about the "find" to anyone in the neighborhood — to a Chicago assayer. "Only
iron pyrites!" And, with a genial smile, "Lots of others, like yourselves, thought
they had a gold mine in those same old bluffs!"

In the crevices of these "same old bluffs" grew the blue-fringed gentian, while
upon ledges higher up were found stately orange and red lilies; these latter were
enhanced in color when seen in the morning sunlight. Then their transparent hues
often saved them from the desecrating hand of the flower gatherer, for they seemed
to voice a sentiment of protest; so for a long time they escaped.

In the shelter of the forest in early spring, among other wildwood flowers, came
the trillium, the earth being literally carpeted in a mosaic of green and white. Mrs.
Harcourt Mott, a most excellent painter of flowers, now living in Ravenswood, made these
children of the wildwoods her particular study for years. The trilliums are passing away;
the painter's delineation will be all that remains of these delicate and beautiful
denizens of the North Shore. Much of this wild growth takes kindly to transplanting,
if conditions be about equal. The writer was very successful in planting most
varieties in a small grove adjacent to the home. The orange lily, however, became
somewhat smaller and faded in color, while the red lily scorned to be thus civilized,

111

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

preferring to perish in each experiment for its transplanting. The ferns in the
ravines were magnificent, three distinct varieties, and possibly more, while between
the shadowy forest, in June, might be seen the wild crab in full blossom, its fragrance
betraying its whereabouts long before it came into view. The wild hawthorn was
also a native here. It was not quite as showy and as fragrant as its kin of the
English woods, which was imported and planted in the garden, where it smiled in
serene delight, feeling its own superiority for two seasons, but succumbing to winter
severity in the very presence of its virile cousins standing knee-deep in snow and
unafraid of frost.

Who would have thought at that time, only a few years ago, that electricity
would solve the problem of rapid transportation for Ravinia, and other places?
Who could have conceived of such an ideal pleasure park at that time, where the
works of the great masters would be rendered by organizations like the Thomas
and Damrosch orchestras? We have heard MacDowell's "Indian Suite" by the
Thomas Orchestra in this environment of forest and Lake. Would that MacDowell
himself might have heard it here ere he passed away! Ravinia Park should be
preserved. Surely there is wealth enough along the North Shore to prevent its
being violated in any other form.

PLATE No. 106
TRILLIUMS
After a Painting by Mrs. Harcourt Mott

The city of Highland Park is but three miles north of Ravinia, and it was but
natural that the former should desire to annex the same. It was better for Ravinia,
anyhow. Its elevation suggested the part of its name "Highland," and its natural
park-like appearance the rest. It was so named by the Port Clinton Land Com-
pany, who owned the original townsite. There are delightful ravines running through
this city, so that in the early years of settlement there were good drainage facilities.
Most of the homes, in its earliest history, stood in park-like grounds, and although
the city is very much modernized, the disposition is ever toward fine tree growth,
shapely shrubbery and gardens with a revel of bloom. There is much of historic
interest associated with the site of Highland Park. Here, at one time, was a large
Indian village, and the old, old trail, close to the Lake Shore, and of which mention
has been made in the chapter on Ravinia, also passed through this territory, and
undoubtedly close to the Lake, taking into consideration that much of it has been
washed away, and in some places no trace left. In all probability the Moraine
hotel, that handsome and dignified structure on the Lake front, is either on the
site, or in close proximity to this old Indian byway. Can you conceive of anything
more in contrast to the old Lake view hotel than this later structure, one having
played its part, and the other now within the glare of the footlights for public favor,
and both involved in the story of the North Shore ? Both a credit to their founders
and managers. Not a vestige of the original remains of the early North Shore

112

PLATE No. 107

VIEWS IN RAVINIA AND HIGHLAND PARK

113

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE

hotel, but the Moraine is yet invested with the charm of woodland beauty and
ravines; with highways and byways in the form of well-paved thoroughfares leading
to and from this ideal hostelry which has made Highland Park famous the wide
world over.

The Green Bay Road, the first extended highway running north from Chicago,
and laid out in 1835 under the direction of General Scott of the United States Army,
and just west of the Highland Park depot, was also a time-honored trail. One of
the early Catholic churches, "St. Mary's of the Woods," was also in this vicinity
on the Green Bay Road about half way between Highland Park and Ravinia. It
was erected by the Catholic families in that neighborhood in 1846, and was torn
down in 1893. While living in Ravinia the writer heard many traditions in

PLATE No. 108
"St. Mary's of the Woods," Green Bay Road Near Highland Park

(Built 1846. Torn down 1893)

connection with this little log church, that stood alone and forlorn in appearance with
a tiny wooden cross on its apex, and one of rude structure, but standing some thirty
feet high in the churchyard. It was one of the show places to which we took our
friends, believing at that time that it was in some mysterious manner associated
with Marquette or with Father Pinet. Now, however, we have come to the con-
clusion that Mr. Frank R. Grover, the most indefatigable ferreter out of Indian
facts and traditions of this North Shore, is correct in his story of "St. Mary's of
the Woods. The church was first built on a temporary site, then a Mr. J. Reckten-
wald, a German farmer, donated the land for the later and permanent site, and
the logs were taken down and the church rebuilt of the same logs. The large cross
was of black walnut, made at Gross Point, hauled to its destination by a team of
oxen, and erected with imposing ceremonies on August 15, 1853. Father Weyinger,
a Catholic missionary, it is said, made the cross, officiating at the actual erection of
the same by the congregation assembled in the churchyard during the time that
Father Forthmann, the pastor, was celebrating mass inside the church. All of
which proves that there were many devout Catholics residing in this vicinity at
that time, and that they were ready, as pioneer devotees of their faith, to establish
that which should appeal to all. "St. Mary's of the Woods," seen in its condition
of decay, by daylight, was weird and impressive enough, but seen under the soften-
ing influence of moonlight, with a grove of forest trees in the distant background,
and from whence issued the mournful note of the whip-poor-will, or the more ominous
hoot of the night owl, the Past became a force in impelling one toward accomplish-
ment in the Present; for today is ours, and the highways and byways of yesterday
must be our spur for today, as tomorrow "cheats us all."

114

HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS — PAST AND PRESENT

Historic Illinois, Parrish.

Jesuit Relations, Thwaite.

Early Voyages Mississippi, Shea.

Story of Chicago, Kirkland.

History Cook County, Illinois, Andreas.

Indian Landmarks North Shore, Grover.

Antoine Ouilmette, Grover.

Father Pierre Francois Pinet, Grover.

The Author also desires to express appreciation of the helpful courtesy shown
by the Chicago and Evanston Historical Societies, and to the Chicago & North-
Western Railway Co. for the loan of several historical illustrations.

115

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

HOMES AND GARDENS

PLATE NO.

Abbey, C. P 58

Adolphus, Wolfe 15

Alexander, H. E 51

Anderson, Fred A 21

Barbour, James J 57

Bemm, Frederick O 33

Bosch, Charles 68, 69

Brado, Verne L 45

Brink, A. P 50

Brunell, F. H 75

Burson, W. W 60

Bryan, F. W 38, 39

Bryan, Dr. John C 16

Carter, Lincoln J 17

Carlson, A 10, i :

Case, Frank A 13

Decker, Alfred 31

Doland, F. H 37

Eddy, George D 12

Ennis, Callistus S 49

Fahrney, Wm. H 7

Fessenden, Benjamin A 90

Fowler, E. L 73

Garvy, Dr. A. Cosmas 28

Gately, John 14

Getty, F. W 3°

Grosvenor, Dr. W. F 20

Gunder, S. H 6

Haegele J. C 44

Hammond, L. P 62

Haskins, R. C 46

Herbert, Mrs. K. E 27

Hippach, L. A 47

Hollister, H. L 54, 55

Houghton, E. W 36

Hurd, Harry B 43

Huston, Ward T 34

Jaekel, W 64

Johnson, A. M S

PLATE NO.

Johnson, Dr. C. N 9

Linthicum, C. C 72

Mather, R. H 48

McKay, Henry H 41

McMullin, Frank R 92

Middendorf, Geo. N 23

Moeng, E. D. (entrance) Front Cover

Moeng, E. D 32

Montgomery, F. B 22

Moraine, The 89

O'Meara, James J 53

Pearson, W. B 8

Perkins, H. F 24

Peters, Jos. G 25

Pond, Walter M 74

Rubens, Harry 85, 86

Rudolph, Franklin 83, 84

Schultz, Henry W 77

Schulze, Paul 78

Serrell, W. L 81

Shattock, Henry E 40

Shepherd, E. S 4

Spoor, George K 19

Stafford, E. H 76

Starck, P. A 26

Steele, Frederick Morgan 87, 88

Steffens, O. M 59

Stolp, Dr. Rufus B 79

Stone, George A 52

Sullivan, Capt. D 29

Thompson, C. H 56

Thorn, John C 63

Thurber, Seymour J 35

Tritschler, C. F 67

Uhl, Edward H 42

Walker, Stephen L 6 1

Weinand, Mrs. John N 18

Wheeler, Albert G i, 2, 3

Wilson, Louis T 80

MISCELLANEOUS

Clark, Robert R., Homestead 101

E vanston. Views of 71

Fort Dearborn in 1803 98

Fort Sheridan 99

Highland Park, Views of 107

Indian Trail Tree 105

Lake Michigan — Foot Columbia Ave 66

Lake Michigan — Foot Devon Ave 65

Lake Michigan — Foot Glenlake Ave 70

Lake View House 102

La Salle, Portrait of 97

Log House at Kenilworth 104

Loyola Academy 95, 96

Marquette at Chicago River 94

Marquette's Signature 94

Old Homestead, Ravinia 91

Ouilmette, Antoine, Residence of 103

Pioneer Residence 82

Ravinia, Views of 107

St. Mary's of the Woods 108

Trilliums 106

Wolf's Point, Chicago, 1832 101

PAGE
HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS, PAST AND PRESENT 87-114

116

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS URBANA
917.731W58B C001

BOOK OF THE NORTH SHORE; HOMES. GARDENS.

30112025339943

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